


Sorcerer's Successor

by CompanyMask



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: I'll add tags as I write, Kinda, M/M, might be more ships but I honestly don't know, rhack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:05:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompanyMask/pseuds/CompanyMask
Summary: AU Rhys wants to become a powerful sorcerer and learn from the best sorcerer alive. Problem is he's already dead. (Takes place after Assault of Dragon's Keep. Canon typical violence, language and rating will change for future smut)





	Sorcerer's Successor

Once upon a time there was a young man who hungered to be a powerful magic user. His name was Rhys and since he was a child the idea of magic lit an inextinguishable fire of excitement into his heart, however, such interests and desires were frowned upon by the people of the land all thanks to the tyranny of the Handsome Sorcerer. The fear stricken citizens worried those with such a desire would be born to become like the maniacal magic user from mere ambitions of magic alone. Magic had been banned by the people long before it was decreed by the Handsome Sorcerer because of such superstitious thoughts. The people assumed the desire and use of magic resulted in becoming twisted and evil. Since this line of logic, the ban of magic and spells had become the norm. No one questioned it and people were content to leave the dark arts to the evils of the world. People were okay with the idea of the restriction of magic if it meant they wouldn’t one day have an army of magic users coming to burn down their homes, pillage their earthly possessions and take their lives. Magic was something to be feared and avoided and not to be foolishly sought. 

Unlike the majority of the populace Rhys had not feared the Handsome Sorcerers’ alchemic powers, powerful magics or his megalomaniac tyranny over the weak but was instead enthralled by it. The Handsome Sorcerer was so imposing, powerful, cunning, dangerous and obviously handsome. Damn, he was handsome. It was a hunger Rhys could no longer sate from afar. His family did not except such foolery and disowned the poor lad by the time Rhys had reached his coming of age years. Yes, this young man's thirst had been born during his early teens and lasted with great intensity until his adulthood and shame was something the lad’s family battled for many years until it was too much. 

“Rhys, it’s not normal. None of this is normal,” his mother exclaimed as she pointed out all the useless trinkets and collectables he had sprawled across his room and walls, “I think we’d be better off without a son than one who boot licks and brown noses the Handsome Sorcerer and accepts his rule.” It was an admission lost of emotion and was instead deadpan with a desperate sound of exhaustion. Rhys’ parents spent years dealing with the ‘phase’ of their son’s love for magic, and the strongest magic user to boot, so when they felt he was self-sufficient enough they had cast him away. Rhys hadn’t been discouraged but fueled to succeed. He took his most adored items and left for the diverse town of Flamerock Refuge. He had heard great things about the town…well, not really. It smelled of ass and death and the townspeople were destitute and faced the wrath of the Handsome Sorcerer and his army of ghouls more than anywhere else in the world. Bad location, probably, it was the closest human settlement to be built with such close proximity to the dwelling of the power-hungry ruler but whatever. _This was home now_ , Rhys thought. Sure, it was a significantly more difficult way to live compared to the secure walls of Eden, and Rhys risked his life every minute of the day just existing in the village, but he was free to pursue magic and certain sorcerers of immense power and handsomeness if he chose without judgement or scolding. People were too broken down, hungry and thirsty from droughts and famine and trying to survive their god forsaken lives to care what Rhys did or sought for himself. Yes, this place was truly home. Here Rhys could save up for a journey and under the tutelage of the Handsome Sorcerer he’d be on his way to greatness…or so he thought. 

When the news of the Handsome Sorcerers’ death spread across the land with an uproar of joy it broke the heart of one young man in particular. Where happiness blossomed around him a deep sadness had borrowed within Rhys and ripped out his reason to wake up in the morning. He would never meet his magical idol nor would he ever learn from the best to one day be the best. This was a pain inconsolable by his best friends, Vaughn and Yvette, and there attempts to have Rhys forget such a dangerous endeavor. Rhys’ best friends were ones he met on his venture to Flamerock and since then have stuck by him through thick and thin. It was the closest resemblance of family he had now and he cherished them greatly. Sure, they found his obsession a little…weird but who didn’t have one of those, right? Everyone had a kink and Rhys’ just happen to be for evil magic users. Anyway, a night at Moxxie's bar could not wash the taste of indirect failure and the loss of an idol he had since his childhood. Young Rhys still dressed his room with collectables of faux magical instruments and imitations of the Handsome Sorcerer’s gear and tools. The overzealous lad even had a wooden mask carved in the mad sorcerer’s likeness he had decorated his wall with. He had it bad. _Real_ bad. Bad enough to lose his family and concern his friends. It was a passion reaching milder levels of obsession. Vaughn and Yvette both worried their friend's lust for power may take him somewhere dangerous and honestly, after some serious consideration and a few drinks later, they wanted in. What if Rhys had what it took to _be_ the next sorcerer at the top? What if one day he’d been running the land? As weird as it were they were soon less worried and more supportive to maybe one day be on top with him. The trio could dream, right? Rhys’ best friends had expressed their support the best way they could which was with their skills. 

Yvette worked at Moxxie's and was a waitress but also learned the magnificent brews Moxxie concocted to sell to hunters and mercenaries. They were recipes Moxxie only trusted to those who she could trust. Besides, if betrayed she wasn’t against a little revenge anyway. These mixtures were potent and highly valued and expensive. From healing to granting powers of strength Moxxie's drinks could make any loser a hero, err, temporarily. They had their limits and once the time passed the effects wore off—not a second more or less. Yvette would not accompany Rhys due to work-and valuing her life but that was more or less hinted than said-but she did make him a bag of powerful mixtures of brews and potions that she ‘put on his tab’. Rhys didn’t have a tab at the bar, per say, but he did now. Nothing was free after all and Moxxie’s potions were pricey; too pricey to be free. This meant when the sorcerer-to-be returned he owed her free lunches for the next year. She couldn’t afford to serve her friend free but with a friendly exchange of humorous banter Rhys understood and hadn’t expected to be given a favor with such a high price. The two shook hands on it and Yvette pulled her bro into a tight hug and spoke in his ear that he better come back alive and well and powerful; but mostly alive. Rhys promised he’d do his best and would as well as make good of Yvette’s contribution because he would return the most powerful man of the land. He could pull this off. He would pull it off. There was literally no room for doubt. 

While Yvette specialized in brews Vaughn was a blacksmith with the toned body and rugged facial hair to match. He had traveled to Flamerock with nothing but the clothes on his back and his tools over his shoulder and sought work to make a living. He no longer wanted to live amongst the penniless clan of Orc hunters who pillaged the land as bad as their enemies. He wanted to do more hence the search for work. Not too long after the job search, that resulted in complete failure, Vaughn was able to start a blacksmith shop in his own name thanks to Torgue's sponsorship. Torgue was a ripped, powerful and rather…loud man but had a good heart. He obtained noble-like status after the Handsome Sorcerer’s death when his mother handed down her fortune to him to live a simpler life away from chaos of run left by the sorcerer. She now resided in the blessed lands of Eden with a castle where she could drink tea and start a garden and blow shit up without disturbing others.Torgue never was a man for the proper and prepped so he took his fortune and used it for what he did best: sponsor badasses! 

“If you can make the badassiest of badass weapons then I have the money! To seal the deal flex with me, kid! And make sure to make s*** that can f****** EXPLODE! EXPLOSIONS! YEAH!” 

That was the deal in more or less words but probably more than enough screaming. Regardless, because of this Vaughn had been able to craft Rhys a weapon to defend himself on his journey. The well-toned blacksmith also would not be able to accompany his best bro because he had orders to fill and did not want to abandon his business or Torgue's trust in it so he craft Rhys a rod. Not just any rod though. It was something that resembled a sorcerer’s rod but it drew electricity and could strike foes into a temporary state of paralysis. Or kill them horrendously by frying their insides; whatever Rhys preferred. There was a setting for the rod. Paralysis and death, no in-between. With a handshake worthy of the best of bros-and the best man hug ever that lifted Vaugh off the ground-Rhys also promised Vaughn he would not waste his friends trust in him and pay him and Yvette back tenfold once he reached his goals. Hell, they’d be right there with him at the top. Vaughn smiled and seemed pumped but behind his eyes was worry for his friend. Rhys smiled back with a playful punch to let him know he was fine and could handle himself. Vaughn snorted amusingly recalling when Rhys had nearly killed himself when delivering some tools to Vaughn’s shop-he had a bag of metal and melding tools and tripped nearly losing an eye and almost breaking an arm-and they both genuinely laughed. It was what Vaughn needed to calm his concern and Rhys was content he could leave with his bro’s blessing. 

The trio met together one last time with a group hug and witty banter to break the tension of worry resting at the fray of their minds and then Rhys was off. He’d be a man to accomplish great things _or else_. He had a lot to prove to his disowned family, his friends but more importantly himself. Plus, he just wanted to really be like his idol. 

Although this journey would be something epic is was not one without hardship. The desire for magic and power rumbled so deep within Rhys’ soul that along the way of escaping orcs, monsters, traps and other obstacles he realized that this was the high point in his adventure. He certainly faced hardships ranging from lack of supplies to surviving each day and night alive. His body was decorated with bruises, lacerations and nicks in clothes and skin, body aches, soreness and the lingering feeling of fatigue. The land was not kind to Rhys nor was its people outside if Flamerock. Apathetic and very often violent Rhys would be running for his life or fending off creatures and killers with his stun rod. He very often had it set to paralyze to avoid killing things but he had been forced to turn it to death on more than one occasion. Never having it in him to use that setting as intended Rhys was casualty free for now. He was just so damn _tired_ though. After all the shit the poor lad endured so far he was unaware how much more he’d have to go through. His travels through dangerous, dark forests had eventually led him to the opening of caves-no-mines? It hadn’t mattered, Rhys was just too tired and hungry to care. This was the way based on his map but he knew the original way would be closed off so at some point he’d end off course into land unfamiliar to him. Great. 

During the casual stroll through the start of the mines-now free of the mutant spiders and the Orc camp that used to be bustling with the administration of suffering of humans and Dwarves alike for soups and skins and spells-Rhys had met up with a strange man bursting with personality, strength and a lot of hair. Rhys learned from the slayer of the Dwarf king, Salvador, that the pathway to magic he was after was tricky as hell. What Rhys was looking for was possible but the only road to open for such a path required the giving of something of the path seeker. The man's accent was thick but alluring, possibly from a far off land from here, as he spoke vaguely and he looked to be a dwarf himself…sort of. It was strange to learn this was the man who took down the Dwarf king and his faithful men. Rhys felt nervous in this short, burly man’s presence as he happily spoke of his grand adventures of murder and pillage of the Dwarves he slain. Salvador explained his need to take down the ‘imposters’-whatever that meant-to retrieve his people's treasure to restore his kingdom and return to his home. Rhys felt a pang of bittersweet guilt from Salvador’ story. Here he was throwing away his family and home for power when Salvador, although a supposedly merciless Dwarf killer, sought his with the very same conviction Rhys had and it was inspiring. Salvador spoke hardy with a rasping voice but his tone was happy and good natured for what that contradiction was worth. The unrelenting heat of the mines didn’t seem to bother Salvador but Rhys has been sweltering under his travel gear and cape and was beginning to feel sort of light headed and knew he’d need reprieve from this place a lot sooner rather than later. 

The Dwarf mines were like catacombs that connected to varies parts of the country from the underground and carried many secrets, treasures and magical mysteries of its own. Rhys was in awe as much as he felt anxious because he never experienced such a place before. It felt heavy with the smell of earth and metal and something dry and stale like settling ash. Blood wafted in the dust ridden air every once in awhile but it smelled old and was overshadowed by the smell of heat and sulfur in some areas. Once the traveling duo reached their destination at the end of the mines to a one-way path the Dwarf King killer said his farewells and with weapons blazing he hurried down at the sight of remaining dwarves and orcs Rhys was very happy to avoid. He had his trusty rod to protect him but he did _not_ want to get into another encounter right now so he left Salvador to his own mission and continued with his. Besides, Rhys hardly knew how to weld his weapon properly or had the power behind his swings to truly leave impact on his foes. Even the deadlier setting was not as effective without the proper swing. This was especially the case with those Rhys had encountered with armor; which was almost _everyone_ meaning to kill him. It was depressing as hell. It was like having a bad ass sword but not knowing how to unsheathe it so the battle is forced to continue with the sheath on. 

No longer lamenting his weakness Rhys had begun to approach the beginning of the path. It glowed something bright and yellow as he took each step that led him closer to the other side. There the young man was met with an alter that seemed ancient and decrepit. The place was like walking into another dimension. The smells of earth and ash had disappeared completed and replaced with the comforting smell of sun and grass. The air was no longer hot and dry but humid and cool. The alter was nothing more than crumbled ruins of what looked to be the remnants of an old civilization with symbols engraved in the stone still standing that wasn’t beaten by time and erosion. Vined plants grew along the surface of stones and pillars and rocks and there were signs of life here. How was _this_ in the Dwarvan mines?! Rhys was overwhelmed and admitted needed to sit down. Whether from shock and disbelief or hunger and thirst or all was left to mystery but the young future sorcerer was just faced with too much. After a long-needed break Rhys had approached the center of this alter where nothing of significance stood out. Suddenly a voice called out and Rhys jumped and shrieked. 

“Heyoooooo!” What. The. Fuck. 

The voice was hardly one of deep wisdom or aged from time or had any hint of a higher intelligence. If anything, it sounded friendly enough though if that was worth anything. After nearly getting killed so many times Rhys decided it was. Very much so. 

“Uhhh yeah, I'm here for the path to the Handsome Sorcerer’s castle? I was told I could get there from here.” Rhys said with a hint of doubt. He rubbed the back of his neck and thought to himself that maybe this was a fool’s errand. How could this place lead to the Handsome Sorcerer’s castle? Well, the mines lead to here so…guess he’dvwait and see. Still, Rhys felt unsure this ‘mystical’ voice had much merit to be useful. 

“Heyo!” it repeated itself and Rhys had to wipe his hand down his face. Was that all this ‘all knowing’ voice could say? Had Salvador tricked him? He wasn’t the sanest man Rhys had ever met. Rhys was about to literally vent aloud when the alter let up and words appears before him. The text glowed an ethereal white and wrote themselves into the air before Rhys. To summarize the message explained sacrifice would be necessary in order to pass. Rhys wasn’t afraid but sacrifice what? He already lost his home and biological family. His old job and old friends. He lost everything worth anything before Flamerock. He always had to lose something it seemed. Still, if it meant reaching his ultimate goal he’d give even more even if nothing was left. He could always rebuild what he lost; his new Flamerock family was evidence of that. The mysterious voice released Rhys from his thoughts. 

“Heeeeyo!” it said again as more text had been revealed. The magic written message continued itself in a riddle: 

_I require something of yours that has experienced more than you have lived and something that has carried the burden of weight more than you can remember._

The riddle was nothing but nonsense to Rhys. It was so vague and how could he own something that has experienced more than he has? It was impossible. Same could be said about weight but Rhys had to think. The mysterious voice chirped another ‘Heyo!’ as a means to hurry the process. Time was passing and apparently this was a time limited test. Rhys thought good and hard until he decided he’d just guess. What’s the worst that could happen because having to find another way? Maybe guessing would have him lose something too like his _life_. He had to think carefully. It was strange but he had remembered a silly children’s rhyme his mother would amuse him with when he was a child. It was a song about a thieving Stalker that took everything of his prey until nothing was left. It sounded explicitly brutal when Rhys thought back to it but as a kid with a cute jingle and the playful nature of a parent it was hardly the case. A verse in particular came to mind: 

_The stalker comes quickly tracking its prey Stealing looking orbs so wise by the end of the day Giving him wisdom so it can finally play because the eyes were wiser than what the mouth says_

Rhys was silent and remained pensive as another verse played in his head; his mind playing it in his mother’s singing voice as it did the first: 

_How could it take your eyes the skag asked kindly The stalker steals everything oh so blindly The stalker answered because he took the arms too Carrying the world before it ever knew_

The riddle was ambiguous and vague but in the end Rhys figured it out! It was the eyes and the arms Rhys had answered and in the same breath his left eye and right arm were payment to see the way that was lost. A new pathway opened but it was so fucking _weird_. Rhys was now at a disadvantage. He tested the new weight of his one-armed body and his eye had remained closed. A touch comparable to a butterfly kiss graced over the eyelid of his missing eye but nothing more was needed to be explored. Rhys’ head suddenly felt lighter and partially _empty_. He didn’t even have time to process his answer and his payment had already been given. How was he to continue on his journey like this? One eye meant bad depth perception and limited vision and he had one less of an arm to defend himself or remain self-sufficient. His dominant rod swinging arm no less—not that it was much of a loss since he wasn’t good at wielding his rod anyway but still. He had significantly less to work with now. At least it wasn’t painful? It felt foggy and tight at the places that were striped than sharp and painful. Rhys was somewhat relieved. 

“Heyo!” the mysterious voice didn’t sound any more or less pleasant and cheerful as he chirped again another greeting. Rhys was tempted to roll his eye but he was afraid it’d roll out of his damn head at this point. 

After the payment had been collected with clean precision, found only with the absence of human error and the aid of magic, Rhys now stood before the alter with only one fatigued looking brown eye and an arm missing from his sleeve. Habitually his hand went to his missing stub to conceal and protect. He was suddenly just so damn tired. The extraction had taken a lot out of him figuratively and…. literally. After the last Rhys ever heard of the friendly, mysterious voice, he mentally noted as Steve at random for the fucking hell of it apparently, more words were written out in magic text. They were instructions to now seek further add from a powerful sage to aid Rhys in his foolhardy quest. The voice was doing him a favor maybe? A pathway glowed before the young lad then it dimmed to reveal a way out. Before the magic text disappeared, it explained the way to the mechromancing sage and how she can help. A tired smile pulled weakly as Rhys nodded in acknowledgment before the words dispersed into golden dust that eventually faded. It seemed that maybe the ‘heyo’ was more a spell than manners? Whatever it was Rhys pushed the thought from his mind before he ventured down the path that was provided. 

Danger hungered for the maimed so with that thought in mind Rhys continued down the path and sought out the help Steve had promised. There was a sign along the way that introduced the awesome, amazing, totally strong mechromancer and her pet Deathtrap that promised all her benevolent aid. The sign was flashy and bright with strange paints and drawings that resembled a child’s work and penmanship that would put said child to shame. _Who…was this person?_ Rhys had thought as he continued down the path. As far as he knew from Steve’s text this talented girl did not have the power of magic or anything mystical like that but she did have the power and talent in science, machine and alchemy. She would be able to grant the young Rhys mechanical parts and she said as much when she and Rhys finally were face-to-face but also warned him they came with a price. Rhys hoped this wasn’t another request for more of his body because he was running out of parts. He combed his fingers of his one hand through his hair nervously. 

“Whoa, look what the skag dragged in,” the mechromancer commented casually as she saw the fatigued young man and his missing parts and automatically knew why he was before her, “Look kid, I may be awesome as hell and can grant you back your missing eye and arm but it’ll be a heavy price!” the mechromancer exclaimed with emphasis of body language talking her hands and wiggling them creepily. _Shit._

“Isn't that right, boy?” she confirmed with her metallic golem that replied with a grinding, haunting purr in return. Rhys was unimpressed by the dramatic display of the young looking mechromancer but was equally impressed with this her undeniable skill to create such a thing. He was impressed even if fear nestled inside him. 

“I’m not a kid, I’m older than you,” Rhys hadn’t appreciated being told by what looked to be a kid herself calling him a kid and he frowned, “Besides, I understand the risks. My whole damn life has been a risk but I have to do this. I have something I need to do and friends counting on me.” It was a simple explanation that sounded cool as hell and it spoke conviction to a dream. This was no longer just something to achieve; Rhys was married to the idea. He had sounded so noble. If only his goal had been as noble ad his pledge to it was. None of that mattered to the mechromancer though as she only cared about the problems before her and her own ambitions. There was no room for a moral compass or a need for judgment. She honestly hadn’t the capacity to care. 

“You are to me, _child_. Mere mortal, I have seen centuries of what you wish you could even imagine!” The mechromancer continued her theatrics and swished her cape over herself to conceal her form save her shoes and half her head; bright green eyes gleaming mischieviously. The mechanical golem made a sound Rhys could describe as happy? Maybe? A mechanical whir of grinding and gears that caused Rhys to tremble excitedly. What the fuck was that thing? And why was it so damn _cool_. 

“Plus, my dad is hella old too and he actually is older like close to middle age maybe? Maybe we have elf in us or something, I don’t know.” The youthful looking sage rolled her hand around as she tried to figure it out. She and her father were so damn old they kind of forgot what they were. It seemed so trivial at the time they remembered. Times like this had the mechromancer craving a sweet drink. Damn, now she needed one. If she was home that had been the cue her father would have caught on to bring her one. So much was so different when a renegade…elf? Whatever she was. 

“Anyway! I, the mighty powerful, ass-kicking Gaige will grant you the parts you seek but in exchange you will lose exclusivity to them. You can lose control should the right, or _wrong_ , person learn to gain access to them; me included. It's still worth it though because metal limbs are sexy as hell and _really_ powerful.” She gloated with a tooth baring grin holding up her own metal body additions. 

“See? I got this bad boy right here when I accidentally lost my own arm when experimenting with new alchemy recipes. I summoned this weird ass monster and it took my arm off with one swipe! Boy, did my dad freak the hell out but it was cool. The beast had been subdued by my back up spell but whoa it was quite a show! My dad was so green and blood was just splashing everywhere and-hey! He was that _exact_ shade of green!” Gaige observed her guest’s cheeks turning a sickly green and it amused then a thought crossed her mind, “Do you know my dad by any chance? Long lost cousin or something? Oh shit, we could be family. If we are are you…elf perhaps?” Gaige had lost herself in her own colorful assumptions as Rhys had begun to feel sick himself; stomach flipping and churning and suddenly glad he'd gone almost a day without real food. Holding up his hand the young man silently begged with a glassy eye for Gaige stop with the details and questions so she could sum up her tale. The supposed teen rolled her eyes and smiled apologetically and mouthed something along the lines of ‘sorry, anything for family’. 

“Okay, so a few pints of blood from the blood tree and the assistance of Maya the fairy to save my life and a brisk visit to the backwoods to clear my dad's stomach later and I have this baby!” Gaige gestured to her metallic arm like it were a trick and a grand marvel then with a spin did the same to her beloved Deathtrap, “and the power to wield and summon my baby, Deathtrap here! Say hi, boy!” Gaige exclaimed with manic energy and her mech golem did so with a sharp clawed wave and a distorted purr of contentment. Rhys stared dumbly at the gigantic beast and nervously waved back but he was just so fascinated by the mechanical beast. He…he _loved_ robots and mechanical things as much as he did magic but have never seen one so lively. Not until now anyway. Robots were the results of alchemy which to regular folks was considered an art of magic which was considered evil so there was a whole lot of not seeing robots. Rhys blushed when he realized he stared at Deathtrap then Gaige too long; a questioning growl emitting from the mechanical beast. Gaige grinned baring teeth then nudged the young sorcerer-to-be. 

“I know he’s sexy but contain yourself hmm…what’s your name? You were so dumbfounded by our awesomeness that you forgot to mention it.” Gaige stated matter-a-factly. Rhys felt the heat of his face intensify. 

“No, I just-I mean-robots are cool is all,” there was awkward silence and Gaige smiled suggestively with a ‘ _riiiiiiight_ ' and Rhys cleared his throat, “Rhys. My name is Rhys, got it.” It wasn’t a question and Gaige just smiled before converting back into her dramatic sage routine with a pose and everything. The lighting changed as Deathtrap turned on a light on his torso behind his creator and turned on a feature on himself that created artificial mist. Rhys could not resist rolling his eye but he found himself also amazed at the Deathtrap’s sentience and abilities. So.Damn.Cool. 

“Oh, and you will forever be bound to a metal companion until the day you die as I am to Deathtrap. Now be gone, mortal-possible brethren!” The powerful mechromancer spoke quick and with a swoop of her mental arm Rhys now sported new limbs. As quickly as they were taken they were granted. Rhys mentally thanked Steve despite kind of wishing he just let Rhys go free instead of all this but he had to admit to himself that these mechanical parts were fucking gorgeous. The new weight had been overwhelming though and unlike the painless way magic had taken his parts alchemy had painfully reattached them. Rhys could swear he felt every nerve attach to the new metal parts and he screamed out in pain as he twitched and tensed and fell to his knees. Blood seeped from the stub of his arm and his eye socket as the parts manifested in their place. It was a sharp, intense pain that was no more than a minute but to Rhys it felt like _hours_. Before Rhys could even get used to said parts the mechromancer was gone as her dwelling and Deathtrap went with her in the blink of an eye; leaving behind nothing but fog and an indenture where her open concept home and lab used to reside. Rhys hadn’t the time to process any of that as he was still recovering from his pain. He was trembling on his knees with wet gasps and under his organic eye were fresh tear stains that burned at his skin. Rhys nearly collapsed but he caught himself last minute and with shakily legs he propped himself back on his feet. That was so fucking painful that it was a waking nightmare. A hellish experience the young sorcerer-to-be wished to never experience again. His organic hand reached for his forehead and he gasped feeling a…hole at his temple? It was cold and hard and Rhys came to the conclusion-albeit after a minor spike of anxiety-that this was part of his new eye…probably. Something granted by Gaige and it was weird and touching it made a cold shiver crawl up his spine. What the hell did he get himself into? 

Rhys weakly laughed upon witnessing the ability to lift up his new hand with ease with sight from two eyes opposed to one. It was the reward of is new deal. He had them gone only awhile. Not long enough some would say but damn did he appreciate his arm and eye a lot more because of this experience. Sacrifices were a little harder than he thought. Maybe….? Remembering Gaige's final words had suddenly ranked the clarity of self-reflection less significant. The words echoed in Rhys’ ears and after a few clenches of his new hand and blinking of his eyes he smiled something subtlety confident. He was ready even with his clothes now soaked with his blood from the process. Good times. 

A metal companion, huh? Rhys had been excited like a boy in a sweets shop. He’d have his own badass Deathtrap? _Damn_. Was real life supposed to feel this good? After how bad it could feel this was something to make up for the hell of mechromancy. The thick fog of the dwelling’s now empty space began to clear and as it did a silhouette started to form. Rhys stared with extreme levels of anticipation at what his companion would be. Hopefully something useful and cool and something like _him_. 

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea for a long time but I just didn’t really work on it because of various reasons but a friend reminded me to just write and keep writing so I’m going to stop holding back in fear of my ideas/writing being…shit for lack of a better term. I’ve easily fallen back into the Assault on Dragon Keep DLC and there is so little content for this canon AU that I just wanted to post something for it. I don’t…know how many chapters this will be but it’s not a story meant to be long. This is a very casual thing to practice writing. It takes place after the DLC but I wrote it as though it’s an AU and not a board game. Idk, just wanted to have fun with it.
> 
>  
> 
> I really hope someone can enjoy the first part of this. I had this idea for a long time but as said let it sit. I look forward to finishing this eventually! I do not have a beta and proof read myself but mistakes are probable. I do not mind people letting me know, only way to get better. Anyway, if you enjoyed this comments and kudos as always appreciated and prompts can be given here via comments/pm or my tumblr companymask.tumblr.com.


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